


No demons. No aprons. No jewels.

by marryfuckkillhanniballecter



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalistic Thoughts, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Letters, Love Confessions, Love Crime, Love Letters, M/M, Pretentious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marryfuckkillhanniballecter/pseuds/marryfuckkillhanniballecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Incarcerated Hannibal Lecter, married Will Graham. They exchange letters throughout those three long years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No demons. No aprons. No jewels.

**Author's Note:**

> So this's the very, very first work of fan fiction I've ever written, but I'm posting just now because I didn't feel like it before. The funny thing's that I've written it after they broke up, but way before The Wrath of the Lamb, which's interesting. At least to me, heh. Anyway, hope you enjoy some pretentious meat. Drink lots of fluids!

_December 24th, 2015_

How do you trap me so? Would that you could make me forfeit my freedom, my body of work. Would you know what do with such a burden on your hands? Fraying through your fingers like sand? As unbearable as it is to touch your fingers with my own? Much more would I prefer they did not belong to you, were not attached to your body. Would I caress them lightly? Lovingly? Wear them around my neck proudly? As much of a burden as you are supposed to bear? As I am supposed to? Should I forsake my eyes to no longer understand? How the sun caresses the very tops of trees, made yellow as you by your doing, I can see our intended future through the affections of others. I will not accept my fate. And you still bury me. The buildings so low and the skies crush me. I no longer deserve such blue, already streaked violent.

**Hannibal Lecter**

_October 26th, 2016_

The unbearable feeling of leaning on such treacherous crutch, guilty of many more things to come. And much as I revel on those prospects, am I supposed to be the one who cages your heart, when I know not what do to with mine now that you're gone? Not gone, not entirely. But deceive you and I'm at loss, so I am if I do not. The scales that grow beneath my skin are the same as your own. Are you harvesting your fruits from my loins or are these seeds mine to sow? I feel the tides rivulet through me as you would like your fingers through my hair. As we curl and uncurl on ourselves. You are already cross-stitched on me. Now I have needles and threads on one hand and a scalpel on the other, to end or to sew as I see fit. Ground me with you. Do not let me walk this earth without you. Or else, I sail blindly. And I do not want anybody else to anchor me.

**Will**

_ October 27th, 2016 _

Do not let yourself be frightened by what lays beneath my skin. It is of any living being's nature to eat. My menu should not concern, nor unease. The blood under my nails is from scratching the rash of humanity. Crucify me if you are not as hungry as me. Cross my path and recognize yourself in me. Fear walking slowly up the escalator of your spine. Will you teach me how to breathe under the dark waves of your mind? Across the labyrinth of my garden stands such a beautiful facade. Twigs entwine and protect the one who tends them. Bit by bit, I build a ladder, only to climb over your walls and find you looking back. Wild flowers blooming from the hollow of your eyes. As someone once said, "You have a beautiful skull". I wonder which side you will wish to be, and if you would like my company. You have earned your place at my table. On it or by its side is completely your choice. Will the fruits of my virtue ever be a memory on your taste buds? Others might not, but I hear you rumbling. If you decide to sit across me, all I have to offer is my eagerness to please. I can change the seasoning, if you wish, but I can not change the meat. Should you gladly join or politely deny me? I do not wish to divorce my tongue from freedom. Let me live my truth. And I would much appreciate if you lived yours with me.

**Hannibal**

_ January 1st, 2017 _

Tell me what I should bring to your table and I will. You are as much as my servant as I'm yours. Let us never perish under the sea from your eyes. I'm curious as to how others dismiss my feelings. Although far from pure, no one could argue how honest they are. A heart of no abundant beauty, a heart that can be as unbearably warm as mere seconds before summer rain. It does not welcome strangers. However, there's a path through the branches of my rib-cage towards you, amongst furs and feathers. I need your steel cold, yet gentle hands to soothe me. I need your red lights over the darkness of my heart, as deep and ill inhabited as yours. The frightening orchestra of your voice. The light blue of your kindness. I wonder why such sacred ground opens up to me. For one thing is to love, completely different it is to be loved in return. I wonder if I will ever get over the juvenile rush at the sight of your scars. I wonder if you will ever stop torturing the unsafe slopes of my mind. And this body, unwilling to stop shivering, until over it you hover your digits. Let me share of the uninviting happiness . Let me hide in your arms from ever seeking creatures. They share notes on how best to creep me. There is no nightmare-tormented confidentiality. They sink claws in my stomach. Please, feed me.

** Will **

 

_March 23rd, 2018_  
  
Most certainly I do not kneel for anyone. But I am happy to bend for you. Mend you. Now a workshop has been settled. Though I should not be a fool to believe there won't be any blisters. Handmade work of art. I wish to share my throne with you. Under my cloak, raven's wings, rises against all odds and pecks me. Gnawing my flesh, you are stronger and you give me bits of you, that have been me but now are entirely your own. So much worries your curls. And as I soothe your nightmares, it strikes me how much of it you can be. Lord of lightning. Fire. Warm winds through icy slopes. Deceiving nature finds a place for honesty in him. Well deserved. Even though you do not think the same of the freedom I own. Yet, we celebrate it. You take my hand and we dance. Both fight to take the lead, both do. As eyelashes fan cheeks. Side by side, our feet.

** Hannibal **

_March 24th, 2018_

You dream of God and Satan reuniting. Admitting their flaws and asking for forgiveness. They both appreciate beauty and knowledge. And, set apart, learned to appreciate one another. Give light and darkness to whom it may concern. We walk hand in hand under leafy, fruitful trees, looking for warmth and cold outdoors. We no longer fit our homes. Shed your skin and wear something blue. You don't have the right to exemplify kindness. I came here to die. I came here to carve my name on your chest. I came here so you would know where I am and where we could be. Pour some wine over my flaming skull. Let it soak. Crack it at the crack of dawn and drink from within. Pour some more and wait until it's green. So many memories have come and gone, although my brain is incomplete. Lay me down on furry blankets and put me to sleep. Smell cold winds on my skin. Touch it and see it bleed.

** Will **

_November 2nd, 2018_  
  
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I do not wish to delve in the devil's lair any longer. I do not wish to see his face, the pristine look on his eyes. To ghost my calloused hands over his skin, holy clothing, so put together, so soft. I do not wish to dine at his table, to be fed so unselfishly. Not at all altruistic, as I can see his intentions unfurl on his lap, altogether appreciated by thirsty, furtive glances that I wish to tame behind my glasses. He looks beyond the red sea between and tries to reach me, show me how able hands bend rudeness to delicacy. Should I turn my back when all I want are his caresses on it? Do not make so delightful wishing what you prohibit me. For he has tended to the wounds you were supposed to. Churches collapse on me and he guides me away from the dark. Such kindness from you I have not seen. I taste longing on his lips, bittersweet understanding. Gladly I am possessed. My blood and my body on his cutlery. Do not cast judgement upon me. I no longer seek your bread crumbs, now that I feast on him.

**Will**

 


End file.
